


quiet

by glittercat



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: ...mentioned briefly, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, crowley is not good at making food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 17:00:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19949713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittercat/pseuds/glittercat
Summary: crowley tries his best.





	quiet

**Author's Note:**

> man i don't know what this is.... short domestic scenes i guess. real soft boi hours have begun y'all

crowley is a shitty cook. 

this shouldn’t really come as a surprise at all, because he’s never really had much of a reason to cook or bake anything. most of the time, he just doesn’t see the appeal of food. he’ll usually order something small for himself when he and aziraphale go out together, but that’s about it. 

despite all of this, he stands in the little kitchen of his little flat, attempting to make macaroni and cheese from a box. to say it’s not going well is an understatement; he’s gone through eight batches so far and each one has turned out worse than the last. 

(odd to think that, in 6,000 years, he’s never had to cook pasta before. ah, well, first time for everything.) 

he’s stirring sauce into this most recent batch and it’s beginning to look very tough and rubbery (how does that even _happen?_ ) and he’s beginning to think it’s time to give up. there’s a small part of him that wonders if this was even worth attempting in the first place. (in his defense, it didn’t seem like it’d be _that_ difficult. there were instructions on the box and everything.) he figures that using a miracle to fix this mess seems a _bit_ like cheating, but he's mostly beyond the point of caring. 

by the time aziraphale arrives at 6:30 on the dot (just like he promised), crowley has prepared two perfectly adequate bowls of macaroni and cheese. he even gets out the nice cutlery and the placemats that he bought at that little market back in the '70s, but has never used. he's aware that all of this is a bit excessive, but it's what aziraphale _deserves._ crowley's never been good at expressing his appreciation for his angel though words, so he uses his actions instead.

* * *

“i know you don’t, um,” crowley starts, “you don’t really need them because you don’t like to sleep, at least, not in the same way that i do, but i just thought they’d be nice to have for when you stay over, and- “

aziraphale pulls him into tight hug before he can continue rambling on. 

“oh,” says crowley. 

"i _love_ them," aziraphale says. "thank you. these are the nicest pyjama pants i've ever seen. i'll wear them tonight."

aziraphale joins crowley in bed later that evening. he wears his brand new pyjama pants, and crowley thinks they suit him quite well. the flannel drapes nicely over his soft belly and thighs, and the light blue tones complement his fair hair and eyes. he gathers crowley up into a tight hug once again, pressing his face into the spot where crowley's neck meets his shoulder. within minutes, the pyjama pants have been discarded to the floor, along with crowley's own shirt and undergarments. 

they make love under the covers, soft and slow and gentle. aziraphale kisses crowley hard, pinning him down against the mattress. crowley leaves scratches on aziraphale's back and love bites on his neck, tiny marks of his affection for his angel.

* * *

they drive home from the ritz without saying much. it's dark out, and the roads are oddly quiet for a friday evening. _brighton rock_ plays from the bentley's speakers at a low volume.

it's an unspoken fact that crowley will be staying at aziraphale's place tonight, as aziraphale has stayed at his place for the past two nights. over the past couple of months, they've fallen into a nice little routine, alternating who stays at who's flat every few nights. over the past couple of weeks, they've occasionally discussed getting a place together, but that conversation hasn't been particularly productive.

_oh, rock of ages, do not crumble, love is breathing still,_

"do you remember that little ice cream shop on the other side of town?" crowley asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

"mmm," aziraphale replies. "i recall their french vanilla was positively _exquisite."_

"we should go there tomorrow."

"we _should."_

_oh, lady moon, shine down a little people magic if you will,_

crowley doesn't actually like ice cream that much, never has. he prefers popsicles and those little flavored ice treats that come in the clear plastic packaging. however, he's realized now that he'll do just about anything in the universe to put a smile on aziraphale's face. 

it's taken him 6,000 years to start to come to terms with his feelings, but he's getting there.


End file.
